This is not Happening
by Destany Mitchell
Summary: Post Santabarbaratown. SPOILER ALERT! In retrospect, it never even occurred to me that something else could be going down. That the moment I walked back into the station because I forgot that stupid check that it would be the buzz-kill of the century.


**SPOILER ALERT! DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVE NOT SEEN SANTABARBARATOWN OR DO NOT CARE TO BE MASSIVELY SPOILED!**

******Disclaimer: **I am having a vision...and the spirits tell me that no, I still do not own anything Psych related, much to my utter dismay. All characters and trademarks of the show belong to their respective owners, blah blah blah. No profit is being made except my own enjoyment. Please don't sue.

**A/N:** OK, so...yeah. This is a massively long oneshot. 28 pages according to my Word document. It was intended to be a series of oneshots but I got writing and I never stopped. And when I went back to figure out how to break it up...I just couldn't. There is no where to break it that wouldn't ruin the flow so one massive oneshot it is. This fic picks up right at the endingish of Santabarbaratown and I took a few small liberties with it. My BF says it's a tearjerker, I think it's intense. I guess if you're a crier, keep your tissues handy. This fic is the product of 1 day of writing and 4 days of revising, editing, and reworking things. I finally have it to a point I feel I can't do anything else to it. There's probably a few minor errors and I apologize for those, but what can you do? I've seen published novels with spelling mistakes, so it happens to the "best of us". On a personal note...I believe this is the best thing I've ever wrote. I'm so incredibly proud of it. Please review. I really want to know what you think/feel about this. I'm seriously nervous to see the responses. Please don't disappoint. With that I give you "This is not Happening" or "the epically long one-shot" as my BF has dubbed it.

* * *

**This is not Happening**

It was the best case wrap up ever. It topped even unearthing a billion year old dinosaur. I, Shawn Spencer, was on a high that couldn't be ruined. I was going to be spending the weekend with Juliet -maybe even obtaining a drawer at her place. My father was still the best cop there ever was, like there was ever a doubt - ok, maybe a bit. And, even better, Dad had became more than that opposing force of animosity. This case, this wrap up, we were suddenly closer than I ever thought possible. We were going to get a beer. We were going to talk and do...whatever it is that normal fathers and sons do.

Even with the high of a new start, I wasn't naive. No, I knew that 30 years of fighting were not magically gone with one case and a cold beer. We would still have our battles. There would still be words that stung and feelings that hurt. But we were closer. We were starting something new and I found I couldn't wait to take that first sip with my dad.

In retrospect, it never even occurred to me that something else could be going down. That the moment I walked back into the station because I forgot that stupid check - Gus had let me have an earful at that one - that it would be the buzz-kill - no pun intended - of the century.

The ironic thing was, I _should_ have known it was coming.

I had seen every movie that ever had a plot similar to this. I just never expected the files in Buzz's hands would change everything. Or maybe, I just didn't want to see it.

"...someone was trying real hard to make sure it wasn't found," Buzz said, his voice serious.

"Really?"

Intrigued, I couldn't help but look at what Buzz had uncovered. Part curiosity, part to make Buzz feel better about the hours of boring grunt work that he could have stopped doing three hours ago. I was certain that I could at least fake a vision about one of the low-lives and get them nailed on a petty charge to make sure Buzz's hard work paid off.

Taking the list from Buzz, my eyes scanned the list and froze on one face. One name. One name I recognized as being still alive - and at large. It was the very person my father was going to see right now.

"Oh my God,"

I think I said the words out loud but I couldn't be sure. I couldn't fathom doing anything else but running. I didn't even remember passing the files off to Buzz. One second, I was staring at the picture, next thing I knew, I was down the hall with the horrible feeling that wouldn't go away. Something inside me _ached_ and I couldn't identify what it was. Panic? Worry? Fear? Disbelief? Anxiety? Maybe some mixture of all those feeling all rolled into one that made my blood run cold and roar in my ears.

My father...Jerry Carp...I just hoped what was running through my over-active imagination wasn't happening. I didn't hear anything. I thought maybe someone shouted after me but maybe I imagined it. I plowed through some innocent civilian on the steps of the station and even that didn't stop me. I didn't even attempt to shout an apology. The people could get over it. Their father wasn't talking one-on-one unknowingly to someone in on a conspiracy going back over 20 years. I saw Gus, leaning against the Blueberry, munching on M&Ms. I zeroed in, rushing over.

"You get the check? That was fast." Gus said through a mouthful of chocolate.

"Give me your keys."

"No! Shawn, this is a company car, you can't just"

"It's my dad."

Gus must have seen something on my face, in my eyes, or maybe it was the desperation that filled my voice. Whatever it was, Gus handed me the keys. I took them from him and ran to the driver side of the car and leaped in, starting it up before Gus opened the passenger door.

"Shawn, what's going on?" Gus asked me as I backed out of the space and peeled out of the parking lot as fast as I dared.

I didn't think.

"Shawn?"

I couldn't think.

I could only imagine my dad, going to meet Jerry, to tell him about the nefarious plot he finally uncovered, and Jerry...God I really needed to stop watching all those movies. This was real life. Real life didn't happen like the movies. If real life were like a movie, mom never would have left, I'd have a brother or sister and a puppy, and the Spencer family would have been one happy and only slightly dysfunctional unit.

"Shawn?"

I ran a red light, turning a bit too sharply, in response. In my peripheral vision, I could see Gus was gripping the door handle with a death grip. I think he was saying something, trying to get my attention but all I could hear was the blood pouring in my ears. _He had to be ok. He had to be ok_. The mantra repeated over and over in my brain, not allowing for any other thoughts except those five words.

"Shawn?"

A glance at the speedometer told me I was pushing 60 in a 30. It was 3:00 in the afternoon. Kids were getting out of school. Pedestrians were out walking. Traffic was anything but light as I weaved in and out. I knew I should slow down, but even as the thought crossed my mind, my foot pushed down on the gas pedal, nudging the Blueberry towards 65.

"_SHAWN_?" The word cut through the fog and I winced at Gus' volume.

"What Gus?" I snapped.

"What the hell is going on, Shawn? You better tell me because if we're about to die because of your reckless driving, it better not be for a smoothie."

I couldn't help but bark out a laugh and I felt something strange in the back of my throat, and for a moment, my vision blurred, but I blinked and it cleared again. I couldn't afford to have a meltdown right now, and not just because I was driving.

"It's my dad."

"If you two had a fight and this is a cry for help, I swear Shawn, I'll"

"He's in trouble," I whispered as I turned onto a street I hadn't been on in over 20 years and forced myself to slow the car down to a crawl.

_Remember Shawn, when approaching a suspect, you need to catch them by surprise. They can't know you're coming or you lost the upper hand. No matter how important you think it is to rush in, you can't. You rush in, guns blazing, you'll be dead. _

He has to be ok.

"What's going on, Shawn?"

"It's not over."

"What's not over? I swear, Shawn, you better tell me what's going on now or I'll"

"I don't know exactly, Gus, OK? Is that what you want to hear? It's just a feeling. Just a stupid feeling I can't ignore and if I'm right..." I couldn't let myself think that way. "I better not be right."

I pulled to a stop just before the house, letting the trees give the Blueberry some cover. I could see Dad's truck in the driveway from here. It wasn't an ideal spot, but I hadn't been completely sure where I was going.

"Shawn, where are we?"

"At Jerry Carp's."

"Who?"

"One of my dad's old partners."

"Partner? As in...like Lou?" Gus asked, and I could see the wheels turning in his head as he looked at me, his eyes widening as the implications began to set in.

"Yeah, like Lou," I said, reaching for the door handle. I was about to get out when I felt Gus' hand on my arm. I paused to give Gus a glare.

"Wait. Let's call Lassie and Juliet."

"Gus, I can't wait. He could," I took a deep, sharp breath, unable to finish my thought. Gus seemed to catch my drift and just gave me a sympathetic look.

"I know. That's why we need to call them."

"You call them. I'm going to make sure Dad doesn't get himself killed."

"Shawn-"

"_What, Gus_?" I snapped.

"Be careful."

"Yeah, yeah," I muttered, opening the door and stepping out.

"Shawn,"

Something in his voice made me hesitate a moment and look back at my best friend.

"I mean it. Be careful."

"I always am," I said, trying to smile cockily but knowing it had to come off as a grimace. Gus just gave me that knowing look that told me he knew just how careful I always am. After a moment, Gus nodded his approval and pulled out his cell phone and started dialing either Lassie or Jules; I'll never know who he called first.

I rushed over to the house and hesitated at the top of the drive. What if I had it all wrong? What if they were just laughing it up about old times and I was making a big deal out of nothing? What then? But that uneasy feeling didn't go away.

It got worst.

I felt something, almost like a chill, but the air was warm, even with the off-the-water breeze. I shivered and something ran down my spine. It was a feeling I never felt before. It was a feeling I never want to know again.

Suddenly, things were _too_ silent. The waves crashed, but there was no noise. There were no seagulls squawking, an ever present soundtrack on the beachfront properties. There were no rustling of leaves even thought it the breeze was strong enough to move them.

The silence was deafening.

It was wrong.

All of it was wrong.

A loud crack echoed through the stillness. It was a sound I was familiar with. It was the sound of a standard issued police weapon being fired. For a moment, I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe.

Before I could even process it, I was moving. My feet were hitting the ground at a speed an Olympic Champion would kill for. Scenery blurred around my vision. I only had eyes for one figure. The one standing in the distance, weapon pointed down, cop stance evident from even a distance.

"Dad?" I yelled and the figure looked up at me. I skidded to a halt a few feet off, looking between the man holding the gun and the other on the ground, bleeding from the chest, and back at the shooter.

"What took you so long, Kid?" The man said, a smirking grin appearing across his mouth.

He was ok. I could breathe again. He figured it out - I should have known he would figure it out in time. Henry was always like that. Always one step ahead. I always found that to be extremely frustrating, but right now, I wanted to kiss the powers-that-be that gave my father that uncanny knowledge.

"Yeah...well, had to give you a head start, Old Man." I panted out, looking back at the body and back at my dad.

"It's OK Kid. I got him." Dad said and I looked into his eyes and I knew everything was going to be ok. That we would have that drink and he'd be around to frustrate me and force me to close my eyes and recite how many hats where in the bar.

I blinked and opened my eyes and had a moment of complete confusion. Gone was the image of my father, standing proud with the gun trained on Jerry Carp. I was still standing in the driveway, next to that stupid old truck, eyes locked on the still form on the beach. From my peripheral, I could see another figure running away. I couldn't look away from the figure laying on the beach.

A body wearing a familiar shirt.

It was hard to breathe.

With a familiar build.

I couldn't move - even though everything inside of me _screamed_ to run towards him.

And there was red in the sand.

That numb feeling came over me.

I don't remember moving.

"No, no nonononononononono" I heard someone say over and over again and something in the back of my mind knew it was me.

I don't remember even looking to see if Jerry Carp was still around or if he had gotten away.

All I saw was my dad, laying on the beach, and the red sand next to him.

"Dad!"

Suddenly, I was on my knees (how did I get there?), next to my dad, looking him over.

"Dad! Come on, come on Dad, wake up," I yelled, shaking him slightly but nothing happened. His skin was cold already. He was pale. There was blood...I touched the wound on his shoulder. It was by his heart...it couldn't have..."Dad, Dad, Dad, Pops...come on, come on..." My hands were shaking as they hovered over him, unable to determine what to do. "come...Dad...Dad...Daddy," Suddenly it became hard to talk. There was this lump in my throat and this heavy weight on my chest. Everything inside me screamed this was wrong but I couldn't figure out why or how. All I knew was this was my dad and he shouldn't be laying on the beach. This red substance covering him was something bad. Wasn't it supposed to be inside him?

"Come on...you...you have to wake up" I choked out, suddenly not able to remember what the red meant. What the paleness meant, or why it was wrong that he felt so cold. All I knew was that it was imperative he woke up.

I don't know what possessed me, but I touched the sticky red substance covering my dad's shirt, the smell of copper reached my nostrils and I felt sick for a reason I couldn't name. A lump, even larger than before, formed in my throat. My vision blurred. I felt something wet move down my face and suddenly, my hands were covering the redness, unable to stand the sight of it, the warmth a stark contrast to the rest of him. My weight was pushing down on his shoulder and I couldn't remember why it was important, only that it was.

"Dad...Dad come on. Y-y-you have to w-w-wake up, ok? We...we're s-s-suppo-sed to have th-that d-d-rin-k, ok? You...we..."

"Shawn?" I heard someone yell.

Why would they yell Shawn? What was that supposed to help?

"Dad...come on"

"Shawn!"

The voice sounded closer, but I ignored it, my sole focus on my dad before me. He couldn't...how long had he been...he was just sleeping, right? He couldn't...he was too stubborn to...He couldn't leave me. Not now, now when...

"Shawn..." The voice said again and I felt something touch my shoulder and I looked up to see my best friend looking at me. He looked a bit sick. He was breathing through his mouth. Tears were running down his face. Why was Gus crying?

"He's OK, Gus...He's just...he's sleeping," I stammered, not even knowing why it was important to tell him that. But it was important that Gus knew that. Dad was just sleeping. He was OK.

"Shawn...Juliet and Lassiter are on the way...I called for an ambulance too. They should be here soon." Gus said, looking like he was about to hurl but trying not to. Something inside me was touched by that show of devotion, but I couldn't figure out why that was important either. Nothing made sense.

"He's OK Gus," I said again, looking down at my dad, looking at where his eyes were closed, willing for them to open.

This wasn't supposed to happen. This was not happening. I saw him, he was standing here, gun trained and he was smiling at me. He shouldn't be lying here. I shouldn't be sitting in the sand, the tide dampening my shoes as it came and went.

Words began pouring out my mouth and I couldn't stop them. I don't even know what I was saying, but I couldn't stop the pleading that came out. I made a thousand promises, confessed things I didn't even realize I needed to confess, and it didn't make sense why my throat was closing, why I was stumbling so much to get the nonsense out of my mouth. Why I felt like I had to plead with him to wake up.

Nothing is going to be ok, the words whispered through my brain, causing my vision to blur again. That thought echoed through my brain and I felt that panic raise up again and pushed harder on the hole in Dad's shoulder.

Sirens could be heard from a distance, but I ignored them too. All that mattered was the old man before me, the redness that was covering my hands, and the importance of him waking up.

A million things all happened at once and none of them made sense.

I heard the sirens.

I felt a tug on my shoulder and I resisted it.

There was shouting behind me.

I felt a small hand on my shoulder -

A stretcher appeared before me.

- Or was it the one that ran through my hair?

Someone was asking me to move.

I had to keep the red covered.

I could hear a femine voice gasp.

Two people in uniforms were talking to me.

Someone yelled "No".

It might have been me.

I was pulled away from my dad.

He was gone from sight.

Someone's arms were around me.

"Spencer, calm down,"

It became harder to breathe.

"Shawn-"

I couldn't see. Why was my vision so blurry?

"BP's extremely low, heart rate weak-"

In the place my dad was, all that remained was a red stain in the sand.

My eyes couldn't look away.

Suddenly, the world came back into focus. My face was wet, like I'd been crying. Someone was holding my arms, and I realized I was shaking so hard I couldn't stand on my own. Someone else was whispering something in my ear and it took me more than a moment to realize it was Juliet.

"Wh-" My voice cracked and I cleared it, the lump in my throat suddenly became a desert. "What happened?" I managed to say.

"You freaked out when the paramedics forced you away from Henry," Someone said, and I blinked, realizing the voice was coming from Lassie, the person currently keeping me on two feet. His voice was soft, sympathetic even, like he was talking to a small child.

"I-is.." my voice shook and I was too exhausted to be embarrassed by it. "Is he ok?" I managed to ask, feeling nauseous at the thought.

"Shawn, the paramedics are doing everything they can," Juliet said softly.

"O'Hara," Lassie snapped, and looked me in the eyes. "Your Dad was shot in the left shoulder, possibly hitting near the heart from what I saw. Spencer, I'm not going to lie to you. It's bad. But he was still breathing when the medics took him."

"Carlton!" Jules snapped, probably in reprimand for his harsh tone.

"It's ok, Jules. Thanks Lassie," I said suddenly unable to stop the sniffle that came with the words.

"Guster!" Lassie snapped.

I could hear movement off to my far right. It had to be Gus coming back from wherever he was. Probably a safe place to vomit. I'd have to thank him later for keeping it together as long as he did. Everyone on the SBPD knows I wasn't able to.

Lassie was looking at me expectantly and I realized he had asked me a question. I blinked my confusion and Lassie looked sympathetic a moment before it turned to annoyance. The change happened so fast, I wasn't sure if I only imagined the sympathy.

"Can you stand on your own?" Lassie asked me and I just stared at him a moment before I realized Lassiter still had a strong grip on my arms.

"I...think so."

Lassie sighed, even the sigh sounded annoyed, and he let go of my arms, backing slowly away, eyeing me like he expected me to fall over at any second.

I knew I should crack a joke, say something light, make some 80s reference, joke about Bambi, or something...but my brain was turning to mush. I couldn't think. Nothing seemed to want to work. But I stayed standing. Apparently my legs and my brain weren't connected in that respect.

"Shawn, you ready?"

"Let's go," I told Gus.

"Shawn," I heard Jules say behind me. I paused and turned back around and she flung her arms around me in a hug. I wanted to return the gesture but I couldn't make my arms work. "I'm sorry," She whispered in my ear before kissing me lightly and pulling away. "I'll be there as soon as I can, ok...or do you need me at the hospital with you?" She asked, looking torn.

"I...I need you to find him," I told her and she nodded, kissing me once more and I turned away, following Gus back to the Blueberry, suddenly feeling exhausted and numb.

He has to be ok.

I don't remember getting into the car.

I don't remember Gus pulling away from that scene.

Suddenly, places were moving by in a blur and I realized that Gus was speeding for the first time in his life. Something inside of me was touched. I felt tears sting my eyes at the realization and I closed my eyes and let my head rest against the window.

"Shawn...I..." Gus said, his voice sounding soft and uncertain, like he didn't know what to do or what to say. I didn't know either. Sorry Buddy, but Shawn Spencer has checked out. Leave a message.

"I know, Gus," I said, opening my eyes and looking at my best friend.

Silence stretched between us for the first time in...forever. We were never silent. It wasn't right.

"I...I don't know...did that really happen?" I asked him and Gus pulled the Blueberry to a stop at a red light. Apparently, there were some traffic laws Burton Guster would never break.

"What do you mean?"

"I...I don't know. I thought...there was this moment...after the gun went off that I swear I was standing on the beach, with Dad...he had...he wasn't..." I had to stop because my vision had blurred again and I knew if I told Gus what I had saw, what had happened before I was on my knees on the beach that I wouldn't be able to keep the emotion in check. "I don't know what's real," I whispered.

Gus just looked at me, his brown eyes getting watery as he stared at me. I could feel my heart sink to my feet and this...numbness came over me again. The lump in my throat was back and I couldn't stop the sniff that followed.

"Yeah," I said, my voice coming out rough with emotion. "that's kinda what I thought."

A car horn blared and we both jumped at the noise. Gus sniffed and wiped at his eyes and kept driving.

No other words were spoken the rest of the drive.

It took too long, but when I burst into the hospital, I froze.

I realized I had no idea what to do, where to go, or what was expected of me. I only knew I had to be here but after that...how did I find the doctor? How did I know which room to go to? What if they asked me to make a decision about something? Could I do it? Could I make a decision that could result in my father living or dying?

Gus came up behind me and he touched my arm as he moved towards the desk off to the left of the ER entrance. Numb, I followed him, not knowing what he was doing but knowing Gus would know. This was something Gus was good at - being grown up.

"Excuse me? The man who just came in with a gunshot wound? His name is Henry Spencer and this is his son." Gus said, his voice coming off extremely polite, and surprisingly strong. I didn't even think I could talk right now, let alone be coherent.

The woman shot me a look, sighed, and reached down. She held out her hand with a clipboard and indicated for me to take it. I took the clipboard from her and just stared at it, not really seeing it.

"Fill out the forms and bring them back here. They are prepping him for emergency surgery now."

The woman turned away, a sign of dismissal. I stared stupidly at the clipboard, not even seeing what was on the forms I was supposed to fill out. Gus touched my arm again, and I looked at him. He tilted his head towards the side and I glanced in that direction, seeing the waiting area. Gus began to move in that direction and I followed him. Gus sat down in an empty seat and I sat down next to him. I looked at the clipboard again, and just stared.

I can't do this.

I don't know how to do this.

"Shawn?"

"Yeah?"

"Want me to"

I handed Gus the clipboard and he went to work, scribbling away the relevant information. He didn't ask me one question about it. I don't know why that bothered me so much. I probably didn't know the answers even if he did.

Time passed and I couldn't be sure how many hats were in the waiting room or who came or went. Things just blurred. I was numb. This wasn't happening. I knew it was denial, or something akin to it, but I couldn't get myself to wrap my mind around what I knew happened on the beach, what was happening now.

I didn't even notice when Gus left. I only noticed when he came back.

"I uh...I called your mom," Gus said and I just stared stupidly at him. "She's in Detroit doing evaluations, she said she had to make some arrangements and then she'd be on the next flight out. She uh...she wanted to talk to you but I didn't think...you can call her if you want."

I just nodded my acknowledgement and it didn't even occur to me to ask when Gus got her number.

"Shawn, I know...I know this is a _really_ stupid question, but are you OK?" Gus asked, his voice soft, like he was afraid I was going to explode or break down, or something. I just stared at him a moment and looked away, towards the doors I was itching to walk through. It would be easy enough. I had snuck into harder things than an operating room or hospital room or whatever was going on now.

I closed my eyes and pushed those thoughts out of my head. Dad wouldn't want me to do it. He'd want me to sit here, like an adult, and wait for the doctors or whatever to come out - like they do in the movies and tell you yes your loved one would live or no they wouldn't. That's what we were waiting for. News on life or death. Your chances were 50/50; yes or no. Either your world kept moving or it suddenly spun off its axis. It wasn't fair.

"I don't know," I whispered.

Gus' eyes filled with tears as he looked at me and he let them fall freely down his face. I turned away from my best friend, unable to watch him cry for me. The ability to breath was suddenly gone as two arms wrapped around me and squeezed tightly. I heard a soft sob and I knew it was Gus. I knew I should pat his head or rub his back or cry or something..._anything_. But all I could manage was to just sit and stare at those double doors.

I don't know how much time passed. Gus had stopped crying and was sitting in his chair next to me. Several times a doctor came out and talked to another family. Each time I saw a white coat, I felt both dread and anticipation and when they spoke to someone else, I felt disappointed and relieved.

"Family of Henry Spencer?"

I looked up, my heart stopped and I lost the ability to breath.

"That's us," Gus stated, standing up. I couldn't move. "How...how is he?" Gus asked.

The Doctor looked at Gus and back at me.

"Gus is family," I managed to croak out.

"Mr. Spencer was shot in the left shoulder -"

I tuned him out as soon as the words became medical jargon. Something about ventricles, arteries and repairs, low blood pressure, transfusions and life support. What I did understand was his heart stopped twice during the surgery. His age was not a strong factor for his recovery but his good health was. Overall, they didn't know if he would make it through the night. But he was, at this moment, still alive but they couldn't offer any guarantees.

The look in the doctor's eyes, his stance, and the way he wouldn't meet my eyes told me everything I needed to know. They didn't expect him to live through the night. My father was - in the medical professional's eyes - as good as dead.

"Can I-" I cleared my throat and continued. "Can I see him?"

"Of course," The Doctor said, his voice filled with false sympathy. Some people would find it comforting. It only made me annoyed.

"Do you want me to come with you?" Gus asked and I shook my head.

"I need to do this myself," I told him and Gus nodded.

"Tell him to give them hell for me, ok?" Gus said and I nodded my agreement before getting up and following the doctor through the halls to the ICU room my father was in.

The doctor ushered me in and explained the various machines my father was hooked to, but I didn't listen. I could barely see the old man through the tubes, wires, and assorted equipment surrounding him. There was beeping and whirring and the doctor said something about a time limit and left. I just stood there a moment, staring at the form of my father in that hospital bed.

I forced myself to move closer to the bed. I reached out to touch his hand or something but I couldn't complete the movement. What if one of those tubes moved? What if it hurt him? What if, because I touched something just right...I felt that lump in the back of my throat again and I sniffed.

"Hey...Dad," I managed to say and shook my head. This was stupid. It's not like he could hear me. He was out for the count. Between the drugs and the blood loss...he wouldn't remember it even if he could hear me. "I...you have to be ok," I said, unable to stop the words that came out. "Gus says you need to wake up and give these doctors hell, and you know you want to so just...do it, ok? Wake up and tell them to take their tubes and machines and shove it." I sniffed and wiped at the tears that fell from my eyes.

Why was I crying?

"Just...you have to get better," I said. "I ... I don't know if I can do this without you, ok? Because who else do I call when I'm stuck on a case? Who else is going to tell me to shut up, close my eyes, and look at the big picture? Who else is going to tell me I could have done better? Who am I supposed to talk to when Gus is at work and Juliet is mad at me? Who else is going to come find me when I do something stupid? Dad...I need you. I don't think...I can't do this without you! OK, are you happy? I can't do this without you and you know what? This is all _your fault_!"

I couldn't stop myself. My voice was raising to a yell and I knew the nurses and doctors would probably kick me out, but damn it, it wasn't fair. A moment ago, I was upset and crying and now...now I was so incredibly mad at him. I was crying and that pissed me off too because I shouldn't be crying. We shouldn't _be_ here. We should have been at that bar, having a drink, and none of this - _none of this_ - would have happened. And damn it, why couldn't I stop crying?

"You should have _seen_ it, Dad! You should have known that Jerry would be in on it too! Remember what you told me Dad? Hu? Lesson Number One! Do you remember that one Old Man? Hu? Because I do! _Lesson Number One, Shawn, you need to know your partner better than you know yourself. You need to know what makes him tick. You need to know what scares him. What motivates him. You need to know that he'll be there to cover your ass no matter what and to trust him to do the same. Because if you can't, you're dead. _You failed at Number One, Dad! You didn't see it coming! You didn't know, didn't think, that those...that they'd...and now..."

A sob escaped my throat and before I knew it, I was on my knees, my head resting on the bed next to my father, sobbing. I couldn't stop the tears that flowed down my face. I couldn't quiet the sobs that escaped my throat. It was like a dam had broken and I wasn't sure I'd ever be able to stop. I never cried so hard in my life and with each sob, I only felt worst because I knew the man in the bed wouldn't want me to be sitting here, sobbing my lungs out. He would say that Spencer men didn't cry. He'd say to man up, but I just couldn't.

Gradually, the sobs quieted and the tears stopped flowing, though my eyes still felt watery. I didn't have the energy to lift my head, to move. My head pounded, I couldn't breathe through my nose, and I was pretty sure I had dried snot on my face. And now I remembered why I didn't cry like this. It always leaves you feeling worst and more drained than when you started. I sniffed and cleared my throat and lifted my head to look up at my dad. His eyes were still closed. The machines were still beeping. The tubes and wires were still attached. He still smelt sterile-wrong.

"I...uh...sorry about that," I said, reaching up and wiping my face with my sleeves, knowing if my dad saw that action, he'd scold me. "Dad, I uh...I know I haven't always been the best son," I hesitated a moment, not sure if I should continue, but I had to say this. If this was my last chance, I had to let him know. "And I know we have our problems, and I know that some of it is my fault and I'm sorry for that. But I want you to know, that I will do whatever it takes to make sure that Jerry Carp rots behind bars. I will make sure he pays for what he did to you, to the force that you believed in."

I reached out and touched his hand a moment before looking up at his face, and locking onto his closed eyes.

"I promise, Dad, I'll get him for you."

"Um...sir," Came a small voice and I turned around to see a woman in purple scrubs standing in the doorway. "I'm sorry, but your visiting time is up," Her eyes were filled with sympathy as she said the words, her voice tentative and she looked ready to bolt. Probably one of the worst parts of the job - dealing with distraught family members. I also got the feeling I had been here longer than I should have and I was grateful to her for that.

I nodded my acknowledgement and turned back to my dad.

"I gotta go, Pops. So uh...you get better, OK and I'll check in with Lassie and Jules."

I turned away and left the room. The woman gave me a small smile and I turned away from her and walked back towards the waiting room.

I was honestly surprised when I wound the corner and saw Gus standing with Jules, Lassie, and the Chief. I hadn't been completely confident I could find my way back, but I guess I wasn't as out of it as I thought. As I surveyed the group, I got the feeling there were others here before I got back. How long was I back there? They all stopped talking when they saw me walk up.

"How is he?" Chief asked, her eyes anxious, as Juliet came over to me and wrapped her arms around me in a hug. I returned the gesture and looked up at the older woman.

"He's uh...he's on life support. The Doctors don't know for sure if he'll pull through, so we'll see."

"Are you ok?" Jules asked me, pulling back a bit to look me in the eyes.

"I...I'll be ok..." I said and she gave me a small smile before pulling away. I reached out and grabbed her hand, squeezing it before just holding it. She gave me a smile before I turned my attention back to the Chief.

"Did you get him?" I asked.

There was a nervous silence as the other three people all shared a look. I nodded my acknowledgement even as Karen Vick turned her attention back to me, full Chief mode as she spoke those standard words.

I didn't even pay attention. I just stared at her as she gave off the standard speech. The one where the suspect got away, but they have all the officers on it, they will find him and bring him to justice. The whole force is behind this one. They all want to find the man who gunned down one of their own - even if he too was one of their own. This one was personal and they wouldn't stop until they found him or something like that.

Those words did nothing to wane the anger rising inside me. It was the SBPD's fault this happened in the first place. Their corrupt officers and idiot investigators couldn't get the job done when it mattered. Who was it who solved their crimes? How many times would they have let the real killer go free when it was easier to convict the innocent party? Who found me when I was kidnapped and shot? And again, they failed when it mattered. I dropped Juliet's hand and she looked up at me.

"Shawn?"

"I get it, ok. You guys did your best." I stated before pushing past Lassie and Gus and moving towards the exit.

"Shawn!"

They all yelled but I ignored them as I walked through the hospital doors. I couldn't tell them what I was going to do. They didn't have the balls to do it, well I would. I would make sure Jerry Carp got what he deserved. I was going to avenge my father. I was going to make that man pay.

"Shawn, where are you going?"

I stopped and spun around, holding out my hand.

"Give me your keys."

"Not until you tell me what you're doing."

"Trust me Buddy, you don't want to know."

"We're partners, Shawn."

I barked out a laugh and shook my head at the irony. Partners. Look how that turned out for the man in the hospital.

"You give me your keys or I'll find my own way, Gus."

"I'm coming with you,"

"You don't want to do this, Gus," I told him honestly and Gus went from looking concerned to pissed.

"Why not, Shawn? Hu? Why don't you want me to follow you now, of all times?"

"Because!"

"Because why?"

"Because I'm going to _get_ Jerry Carp!" I hissed in his ear and Gus jerked back, looking at me with wide eyes, trying to figure out what I meant by my word choice. "You either come with me or you stay out of my way."

"Shawn-"

"You in or you out?" I asked, cutting him off. Gus looked at me a moment and I honestly had no idea what my best friend was going to do next.

"I'm always in, Shawn." Gus said honestly, and for a moment, I wished he wasn't.

"You might not want to be this time, Buddy."

"Partners don't abandon each other, Shawn. Henry taught me that." Gus held out his fist and I looked at it a moment before bumping it. "Now, where are we going?" Gus asked me as we walked towards the Blueberry.

"I'm driving." I told him sternly.

"Shawn...I'm driving," Gus insisted.

I rolled my eyes before walking across the parking lot to the Blueberry.

"I should have just left you here."

"Puh-leaze. You can't slip the Jackal."

I rounded to the passenger door and Gus unlocked. I got in and Gus was moments behind me. He put his key in the ignition and looked at me expectantly.

"We're going to my Dad's house."

"Why?"

"Just drive, Gus."

The drive to my Dad's was oddly quiet. Gus kept shooting me worried looks and I was afraid to say anything. I wanted Gus with me but at the same time...if he knew what we were really doing. How far I was willing to go...I couldn't lose him too.

We pulled into the driveway and I leaped out before Gus had the car in park. I rushed to the birdfeeder and pulled out the key that was hidden inside and rushed over to the house before Gus even stepped out of his precious company car.

I unlocked the door and headed in, not bothering to close the front door behind me. I didn't pause in the doorway. Didn't glance at the pictures. Didn't think that he might not be coming back inside this place. I just ran up the stairs and moved down the hall, ignoring that voice in the back of my head that told me no, that said this was wrong.

I entered my dad's bedroom and sat down on the bed and opened the dresser drawer, feeling around and pulling out the old service weapon I knew he kept there. I set the weapon down and felt under the mattress and pulled out the clip. I held it up, examined how many rounds and was surprised to see it was full. Good. But I only needed one.

I picked up the gun and slid the clip in with a sharp upward moment and heard that familiar click. Something inside me shivered and went cold at holding the weapon. Another part of me just felt that much more powerful, that more certain that this was what I had to do.

"Shawn...what are you doing?"

"I'm loading bullets into a gun, Gus. What do you think I'm doing?"

"Shawn...why do you need a gun?" Gus asked, sounding incredibly nervous.

"I told you, Gus. I'm going to get Carp."

"Shawn...that's..."

"What did you think, Gus? That I was going to go find him and let Lassie and Jules slap some cuffs on him and let him enjoy his life in a cell?"

I stood up and checked the safety before sliding the weapon into the back of my jeans, I glanced in the dresser mirror to make sure my shirt covered it and turned back to Gus who was staring at me with wide eyes.

"Shawn...you can't"

"Can't kill him? Why not? The bastard killed my dad," I stated matter-of-factly.

"He's still alive, Shawn."

"The Doctors don't think so."

"Shawn"

"Gus, I _have_ to do this." I stated, and we stared at each other for a long moment. Gus looked utterly afraid and I couldn't look away from him. He had to know I was serious, that this was it. I was going to kill that son-of-a-bitch and Burton Guster was not going to stop me.

I saw Gus move and watched as his hand slid into his jeans and pulled out his phone. He flipped it open and scrolled through his contacts.

"I'm calling-" Gus never got a chance to tell me who he was going to call, but I already knew. Lassiter.

I reached out and grabbed the phone from his hands. Gus looked up at me and I threw the phone with as much force as I could muster into the wall. It shattered into pieces. Gus just stared at his broken phone than looked up at me, fear in his eyes.

"Shawn..."

"You have a choice, Gus. You're either in, or you're out. I won't think less of you if you're out, but you better stay the hell out of my way."

Silence stretched between us as Gus just stared at me, his eyes wide with fear. I just stared back, not giving in. I needed an answer. I had no idea what was going on in his head. I had no idea what he was going to do. Part of me wanted him to back out. To let me go and stay oblivious to this. Another part of me - the selfish part - didn't want to do this alone, but it was his choice. In or out. Follow or stay behind.

After a long beat, I shook my head and moved past him and out of my father's bedroom. I didn't have the time to wait for Gus to wage his inner battle. I was halfway down the stairs when I heard movement behind me. I paused and looked up at Gus who was at the top of the stairs.

"Partners don't abandon each other." Gus stated as he walked down the stairs.

I nodded at him and kept going, surprised he chose to come with. Maybe he thought he could talk me out of it. Maybe he thought he could find a moment and call Jules and Lassie to come and lock me up. Let him try. I promised my dad I would take care of the bastard and that was what I was going to do.

I walked out of the house and Gus was right behind me. I replaced the key in the bird feeder and moved down the street.

"Shawn...where are we going?"

"To find a new ride."

"We have a car!"

"One the Police will be looking for." I said, turning around and shooting Gus a pointed look before moving down the street. I sensed Gus hesitate and for a moment, I thought he was going to back out and stay behind, but he surprised me again and came jogging up behind me.

"Where are we going to get a car?"

"We're going to steal one," I stated.

"SHAWN!"

"Not too late to back out, Gus."

"I told you"

"Yeah-yeah..." I muttered, turning my mind away from Gus and noting our surroundings. We walked until I knew for sure the frequency of cars that came down the street, where all the pedestrians were walking and the distances between us and who would be most likely to spot what we were up to. It was beginning to get dark and I tilted my head at our target. It was a 1991 Honda Accord - one of the most common cars stolen in America. It was a deep red and had seen better days. It was a car you wouldn't think twice about seeing, thus making it the perfect target.

"Keep a look out while I pick the lock," I told Gus as I moved towards the car, crouched low and pulled my lockpick out of my pocket and went to work on the lock.

Gus stood nervously by, keeping watch of anyone who might be coming. It only took a minute, but it felt longer, for the lock to click and to open the door. I smirked at Gus as I hit the unlock and got into the car. Gus followed suit and watched as I pushed the seat all the way back, reached under the steering column and found the wires I needed to start the car.

It didn't take long until the car started and I adjusted the seat and pulled out.

"Where are we going?" Gus asked me, looking around like a cop was going to jump out at any second. Experience told me we had at least a hour - at minimum - for the owner to realize the car was stolen and report it to the SBPD and a BOLO to go out to all traffic cops. We would be long gone by then because we weren't staying in Santa Barbara.

"To Carp's cabin."

"You knew Carp has another place and you didn't tell Lassie, Jules, or the Chief?"

I just shot Gus a look that said 'Really' all over it.

"Why didn't you tell the Chief?"

"Gus"

"Shawn, why didn't you just tell them?"

"Because, Gus. I have to do this."

"Henry wouldn't want you to kill him." Gus stated.

"Yeah, well, Daddy won't live long enough to lecture me about it." I snapped.

"Stop saying that, Shawn. Henry's not dead yet."

"You don't know that, Gus."

"You don't either!"

I gripped the wheel and ground my teeth, ignoring my best friend and continued to drive. Gus seemed to get the message and crossed his arms over his chest, but he kept eyeing me, almost like he was studying me, trying to figure me out. It was weird, but if it made him feel better, he could try and psycho-analyze me all he wanted. It wasn't going to change anything. I was still going to kill Carp.

"You didn't answer my question." Gus stated awhile later, breaking the silence.

"What question?"

"Where are we going?"

"I told you, to Carp's cabin."

"Yeah...but where is that?"

"About a hour and a half outside of Santa Barbara in the middle of nowhere. It's the perfect place to hide out."

"I'll remember that," Gus stated, his voice sarcastic.

"You don't have to come," I stated, getting annoyed.

"Yes I do."

"No, you really don't."

"Oh, you don't think so, hu? Well, I don't think you're thinking clearly right now, that's why."

"I'm thinking fine."

"This isn't you, Shawn."

"Apparently, it is, Buddy."

"No...no it's not." Gus said, sounding a bit sad.

"You can still get out. Just say the word and I'll pull over and you can go do whatever it is you'll do."

"I can't."

"Yes you can."

"No, I can't. Because I promised Henry a long time ago I wouldn't let you do something stupid."

I couldn't help but laugh at that statement.

"Yeah...well...you see how well that promise worked out."

"Shawn"

"I'm not talking about this," I said, still laughing at the irony. "Newsflash, Gus, I do stupid things all the time, but this...this isn't one of them."

"You never think it's stupid at the time."

"Whatever," I muttered, my grip tightening on the steering wheel.

Silence stretched between us and I was thankful for it. I didn't want to fight with Gus. I didn't want him to think he had a chance at talking me out of this. I was doing it. I had to do it. Gus would understand later. He always does. Who is he to decide what was 'stupid' and what wasn't anyway?

The rest of the trip continued without incident, which I was thankful for. I wasn't sure I wouldn't just ditch Gus on the side of the road if he continued to question my motives. We pulled into the park where the cabin was located and parked the car. I got out, knowing we'd have a hike, but I wanted to take Carp by surprise.

"This is it?" Gus called out to me before I shut the door.

"Sort of. We got a bit of a walk."

"How far?" Gus asked me as he got out of the car behind me.

"About a mile."

"In the dark?"

"Unless there's a flashlight hidden in this car somewhere, yeah."

"My car had a flashlight."

"Yeah, well, too bad it's not here."

In silence, we searched the stolen car for any type of flashlight or anything to use for light. Finding none, I looked at Gus and shrugged.

"I guess we're navigating by starlight, Buddy."

"Not so fast Shawny-boy." Gus said, smirking as he pulled his keys out of his pocket, adjusted his keys around until he held up a small tube and flicked it on. Leave it to Gus to keep a penlight on his keychain - not that it made that much of a difference.

"Let's go." I said and we moved into the woods and towards Carp's cabin.

After a beat, Gus sighed.

"So...uh...how are you going to do it?"

"Do what?"

"Kill him."

"I need to find him first."

"Yeah...but after that. You just...you're just going to shoot him?"

"Why are you asking me this?"

"Just wondering, I mean, you obviously thought it through...and you have your dad's gun. But didn't know if you had something else planned. You going to torture him first or something?" Gus asked in tone similar to how a fast food clerk asked if you want fries.

"What is wrong with you?"

"Nothing. You're the one who is intent on killing somebody."

Ignoring Gus' response, I closed my eyes a moment and couldn't stop the movement of my hand as it went to my temple as I searched my memory for the last time I had been here, calling up the layout of the woods and the cabin's position in them so we wouldn't get lost.

"This way," I said, pointing to the left with my other hand and moving off in that direction.

"You know...for someone who is so OK with killing somebody...you get...touchy when I bring it up."

"That's because when you're about to do something like this, you don't go blabbing on about it so everyone around you can hear."

"Shawn. We're in the woods, in the middle of the night. The only thing we have to worry about overhearing are the wolves or whatever else is living in the woods."

"Just...shut up. We're getting close."

Gus listened and stopped talking, but I could feel the smugness coming off of him as we continued towards the cabin. He thought he won. He thought he got to me, that I wasn't going to do it. But he was wrong. I was going to do it. I promised my dad I would get him. That I would make him pay and I was going to do it. I had to do it. Every time I thought of my dad, all I could see was him laying on the beach, the red sand, and him laying in that hospital bed. Those was the images of my father I was going to be left with. I would never be able to forget those moments. They'd stay as fresh in my mind as the tree I was looking at right now. Gus couldn't understand that; _no one_ could understand that every time I closed my eyes, whether he lived or died, I would be fighting those images until the day _I_ died. Carp deserved more than what he had coming to him.

The lights from the cabin came into view and I took Gus' penlight and flicked it off before handing it back. I motioned for Gus to stay low and we approached the cabin. As we got to the edge of the woods, I looked at Gus.

"You staying here?"

"Nope."

"You'll throw up and leave DNA at the scene."

"Then you should have left me at your Dad's."

I shook my head and approached the cabin. We kept low and moved quietly. I went to the door and Gus was right behind me. I had my hand on the gun behind my back as I turned the handle, carefully, trying not to make too much noise if it was locked. It turned easily in my hand. I looked at Gus and nodded before shoving the door open and stepping inside, not even bothering to see if Gus was behind me.

I heard movement towards the back of the house and moved in that direction, navigating the place as if I'd been here a million times before and not just once.

As I moved down the hall, I saw a flash of Carp, and he was gone.

"Shit," I couldn't help but say as I broke into a run and ran after the man, momentarily forgetting about the gun I now carried.

The chase didn't last long. Carp had run out the back door and was still on the steps of his deck when I caught up to him. I pulled out the gun, flicked off the safety and sighted.

"Freeze Carp. It's over."

"What are you going to do, Shawn? Shoot me?"

"That's the plan."

He just laughed and I adjusted the grip and my stance, taking aim right between the eyes, knowing if I pulled the trigger, I would make that shot, right in the middle. I wouldn't miss. I never miss. My Dad taught me how to never miss.

"Drop the gun, Spencer," An harsh voice yelled. I was momentarily surprised when I heard Lassie's voice cut through the night, but I didn't look away from Carp and watch Lassiter approach. I knew he was slinking around the yard to my left, his own weapon trained on Carp - not on me.

"Shawn, drop the gun," Gus said, his voice soft, tentative, like he was talking to a young child.

Something inside of me was torn. Part of me wanted to listen to my friends and drop the gun and let them go, but I couldn't loosen my grip. I couldn't lower my arm. I was frozen in the stance, gun pointed before me, eyes locked on my target. I needed to do this. I had to do this. He couldn't get away with it. He had to pay. He had to..

"Spencer," Lassie said, and I knew he wasn't looking at me either, but at the suspect before him. "don't do something you'd regret later," The older man said and I was angry for a moment that he'd assume I would regret shooting this bastard. Did they ever stop to think that I'd regret _not_ shooting him?

"I can't," I said and the words sounded choked, like someone else was saying them.

"Shawn...just...just lower the gun, OK? Lassie's got it. He won't let him get away." Gus said, his voice soft, soothing but I couldn't do it. I could feel my hands start to shake and my grip adjusted, getting firm again. I could feel something in my eyes and I wasn't sure if it was tears or something else.

"He shot him, Gus..." I said, my voice not sounding anything like me. I couldn't look away. I wanted to look away. I wanted to rewind this day and start over. I wanted my dad to be ok, not in a hospital, fighting for his life. I wanted...

"I know, Shawn. I know."

My vision blurred for a minute and I blinked it away. My eyes shifted in that moment and I locked eyes with the man who killed my father, and I didn't know what to do. I wanted to shoot him. I wanted to drop the gun. I wanted to curl up in a corner and cry. I wanted to pretend this never happened. I wanted my dad to be ok. I wanted to see that this man die for what he did. I wanted to make them all pay for tarnishing my father's pride and joy. I wanted to ... I swore I felt a hand on my shoulder and I didn't look, didn't dare take my eyes off the man before me. I couldn't.

And I swear I heard a voice, the one voice I would always be able to identify in a crowded room with a million other voices. It was a voice I heard all my life. It was the easiest voice to identify.

"_Shawn, a cop always has a choice when he stares down a suspect. He can kill him or he can let him live. And sometimes Shawn, that is hardest choice of all. Because sometimes, you want to pull that trigger so badly that you can see it happening, that you can feel the trigger release, you can smell the gun powder and hear the bang. You can visualize the bullet entering the suspect where you aimed and you know you'll still sleep good at night when that bastard falls to the ground dead."_

_"Then why is it so hard?" a younger teenage Shawn asked, watching his Dad as he set up the targets for practice. _

_"Because Shawn, when the moment is gone and you go home to your family, you need to be able to look them in the eyes and tell them that you did a good job. That you did what was necessary. And _that_ is when you know what to do. Because if you can't come home and tell your son you shot and killed a man today, than you know it wasn't right." _

I couldn't stop the gasp, the soft sob that escaped my lips as I lowered the gun and collapsed onto the deck. I could hear Lassiter yelling at Carp, reading him his rights but the words didn't register. I could feel the tears falling down my face and I couldn't stop them. I heard someone move behind me, heard the sound of the gun skidding across the deck and two arms wrapped around me and I knew it was Gus. I clung to him and cried for reasons I couldn't figure out.

"It's OK, Shawn. It's OK. You didn't do it, it's ok." Gus said, over and over and I knew he was crying by the sound of his voice.

I don't know how much time passed, but the tears stopped and I pushed Gus away a bit and sniffed. I saw Lassie walking up, his radio in his hand as he approached the deck.

"Where's Carp?" I asked.

"Restrained in the backseat of my car," Lassiter responded, eyeing me critically a moment before moving passed us and picking up the gun that Gus had kicked away and studied it a moment.

"How did you know to come here?" Gus asked and I blinked. It didn't even occur to me to ask that question, but he was right. How did Lassie know about this place?

"McNabb was doing some digging all afternoon. When your father was shot and we connected Carp to it, he uncovered the cabin. It wasn't easy, there were a lot of dead ends and lost paperwork, but McNabb managed to find the connection. He called O'Hara and I about it and I came out to check it out."

"Where's Jules?" I asked.

"Back home. Worried about _you_," Lassiter stressed, his eyes narrowing as he looked at me.

"Lassie-"

"Get out of here, Spencer," Lassiter stated, holding up his radio. "I have to call this in and it'll be a lot easier if you and Guster weren't here."

I blinked. I couldn't wrap my mind around why it would be a problem. Lassie sighed and looked at Gus.

"Get him home," He stated and frowned. "And don't think I didn't notice that stolen car back there." He gave us a pointed look.

"We'll make sure it gets back to the owner," Gus said, and stood up. He tugged on my arm but I didn't move. I couldn't look away from Lassie. Why was he doing this?

"What are you doing, Lassie?"

"I'm about to call in for back up to transport a suspect in a shooting back to the station." He snapped.

"No...why are you doing this?"

"Spencer, get out of here before I change my mind."

I let Gus pull me up and my legs shook and I almost fell back to the deck but Gus kept me steady. He held my arm a moment while I got control of myself and we walked to the edge of the deck and down the steps. I turned and looked back at Lassie before we left.

"Thanks, Carlton." I said, meaning it, knowing that this wasn't something to be taken lightly.

"Don't make me regret it, Spencer."

I nodded and Gus and I booked it through the woods and back to the car. We were almost back to the car when Gus stopped suddenly and wouldn't look at me.

"You ok, Buddy?" I asked, knowing it was probably a stupid question. Nothing felt right. I wasn't sad, angry, or anything. I was just...there. There was this haze that was hanging over me and I was exhausted, numb.

"Yes!" He said before laughing hysterically. "I seriously thought...Oh my God" Gus said before flinging himself at me and hugging me so tightly it was hard to breathe. "I talked you out of it!"

"Not really...Dad did."

"Your Dad?" Gus said, looking surprised and a bit skeptical.

"Yeah."

"I don't care who or how, but thank God you saw some sense!" Gus said, pulling back and hit me on the arm so hard I winced. "Don't you dare do this to me again, Shawn, ok? I swear I'll...I'll...Oh my God...You almost killed someone!"

"I didn't."

"You were going to!" I rolled my eyes in response and pushed at Gus to get him to loosen his grip.

"Get off me, we have to get out of here before Lassie's backup arrives." I said, urging Gus to get moving again. We were silent as we finished our way to the car. When we got there, as Gus unlocked the car, I looked over at him and it hit me, just what Gus had done, what he was going to do, for me.

"Gus?"

"Yeah?" He said, looking up at me.

"About...you know...before..."

"When you lost your damn mind?"

"Yeah...I'm sorry."

"And?"

"And...you're the best friend slash partner slash magic head slash jackal slash 'Gus is a table' ever? Because, let's face it, we couldn't call it 'Gus is a table' without a Gus," I stated, feeling a bit more like myself but the words came off a bit wrong, but Gus seemed partially satisfied with the response so I figured it was just me. "And well...'Shawn is a table' just sounds wrong."

"And?"

"And..."

"And you'll never do it again."

"I can't guarantee that," I told him and Gus gave me that look, the one that said he would strangle me if I didn't do exactly what he said, when he said it because damn it, he was right and I was wrong.

"Because I do stupid things all the time."

"Oh, so now you admit it was stupid."

"It seemed like a good idea at the time."

"I told you!"

I couldn't help but laugh a bit as we got in the car. Gus turned the car around and headed back towards the interstate. There was a heavy silence between us and I wasn't sure how to make it better. I didn't think I could make it better and I couldn't think about that without thinking about my Dad. I closed my eyes, feeling tears sting them again. Dad could be...right now and I...I was...

"Hey...do you think that...I mean, the doctors weren't sure Dad would make it-"

"Shawn, Henry is a stubborn old bastard. He isn't going to let a bullet wound beat him."

"Yeah...I guess," I said, playing with a loose thread on my jeans.

"We could call the hospital to check."

"Maybe."

"Shawn-" Gus never got to finish what he was about to say because he chose that moment to remember something else. "Oh, you also owe me a new phone."

"I know."

"And you will be covering my sweet tooth for the next year."

"You realize I don't have the funds for that, right?"

"You'll figure it out."

"I guess that means I'll need to work more cases."

"You know that's right."

And with those words, and the accompanying fist-bump, I knew that things might not be perfect right now, but they'd be ok.

The drive back from the cabin after that was overall, uneventful. We drove the car back and left it for the owner. Gus had filled up the tank and we left it and an envelope of cash on the front seat to help mitigate the theft. We walked back to my Dad's got the Blueberry and drove to the hospital. By this point, I was beyond exhausted but I had hit that point of too exhausted to sleep. I knew later today, I would crash and crash hard, but that was not happening anytime soon.

We made it to the hospital without incident and Gus came with me as we went to find my father in ICU. We entered the room right as the nurse was getting ready to leave. She smiled at us and told us they had removed the ventilator. It meant he was strong enough to breathe on his own, but still not out of the woods, but they were hopeful. She left us alone and I went over to the bed and collapsed in the chair that wasn't there before. Gus stood at the end of the bed, watching us a moment.

"I'm going for a coffee. You want one?"

"Sure." I said and Gus left the room and I turned my attention back to my dad. I sniffed and reached out and took his hand.

"I uh...I almost did something really stupid tonight and I know when you wake up, you're going to give me hell about it and that's ok. But I want to thank you, because I would have done it. I almost did do it. When I aimed that gun, I had every intent on it being a kill shot. And then...I don't know. Something happened and it was because of something you said before, and I never understood it until last night." I paused, and took a deep, shaky breath before continuing. "I get it now, Dad. I almost made the wrong choice, and Gus seems to think it's OK because I didn't do it, but he doesn't know that I didn't mean for it not to happen...not consciously." I sniffed again and set the hand back down on the bed and just kept mine over it. "So, I guess, I need to thank you Dad, because you saved me. Again."

I looked up when Gus came back into the room, two cups of coffee in hand. He took a sip of his as he handed me mine.

"How is he?"

"Resting up so he can give me the lecture of the Century."

"Shawn?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm glad you didn't kill him."

"Me too."

**~ Finished**

**A/N:** *peaks out from behind rock* Well? Please click that little "review" button and let me know what you thought. I promise I'll even respond with a minimum of a thank you :)


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